[ His eyes attempt to lock onto hers, but even the action is slow, unhurried: each movement considered, as though to preserve the fragility of the moment. His voice, when it comes, is low and reverent, edged with something almost like awe. ]

You have never ceased to be her, not in my eyes. I see you as her, but also as you, in this new life. I wish to get to know you as you are and as you have been, because I will always love you in any life.

[ His gaze drops to her hands, noting the familiarity of that motion. How many times has he seen her hands twist together in that exact way, across lifetimes, across years... He remembers all of it. ]

Though my recollections are fragmented, there are things I cannot forget. I remember how you sound when you laugh, how it never fails to lift my spirits. I remember the light that sparks in your eyes when you speak of the things you have seen, even when those things take a sadder turn.

[ He reaches for her hands at last, his touch gentle, trying to steady the restless motion. ]

You do not need to be anything or anyone other than who you are now. And even when I was slow to remember, or too distracted by other things to really see you, you were never forgotten. Not truly.

[ He pauses for just a moment, trying to navigate the sudden swell of memories and feelings that are beginning to awaken again. ]

If you will allow it, let me carry these memories alongside you. Let me remember with you.